Food-drive Designs Say It's Can, Can Time

Last year, Dan Farmer learned the hard way that Rome wasn't built in a day.

``You know how you remove one can and they all collapse? That's sort of what happened,'' Farmer said Tuesday, recalling the rapid rise and even more rapid fall of his Roman Empire.

He was talking about a model of the Roman Colosseum built of canned goods for last year's CANstruction design competition at Orlando Fashion Square, where this year's designs are now on display.

Farmer's first hurried attempt at the glory that was Rome collapsed in a pile of would-be succotash in the middle of the mall - a mortifying moment for a professional architect.

``We learned we had to do a lot more planning,'' said Farmer, who started work on the doomed Colosseum only two weeks before the competition.

This year, he and his colleagues at Farmer Baker Barrios Architects began planning two months ago on the firm's entry: ``Nutcrackers,'' two towering tin soldiers, with feet of juice and arms of pasta, from the popular Christmas ballet.

The planning paid off in a colorful - and seemingly sturdy - design. ``Nutcrackers,'' which also makes use of boxes and cans of soup, ravioli, cereal, waffle mix, peanut butter and granola bars, looks like a serious contender for one of the prizes to be handed out Sunday in six categories including ``best meal.''

I probably shouldn't say that since I'm one of the judges and should remain neutral. But to paraphrase TV chef Emeril Lagasse: Hey, we're not judging rocket ships here! We're talkin' piled-up food.

Started by architects in Denver in 1992, CANstruction is a uniquely American civic event: part charity, part genius, part freak show. I mean, what else do you call a lifesize replica of a pig built with cans of Van Camp's Pork and Beans?

``Canned Ham'' is what the builders call it. ``Dinner'' is what hungry people will call it when the CANstruction entries are deconstructed and donated to the Second Harvest Food Bank.

``That's not that much food on a national basis,'' said Kim Esteban, an architect and a spokesperson for Orlando's CANstruction. ``The real purpose is to raise awareness of people in need.''

That's important because we're heading into the biggest canned-food-drive season of the year. According to a national CANstruction brochure, ``Each day 30 million Americans, 13 million of whom are children, can't afford a decent meal.''

The 10 designs now on display at the mall - eight from local design firms, two from high schools - represent about 20,000 pounds of food, all donated by the firms and students at Boone and Evans.

It's amazing what you can do with a couple of thousand cans of beans and peas. These designs must be seen to be believed - literally.

Tuesday afternoon, as I watched the teams unload their groceries and prepare to build, a man pushing a baby stroller stopped to stare.

``What's going on here?''

``We're building a museum out of canned corn,'' said architect Tim Roberts.

The shopper smiled. ``Yeah, sure.''

Sure enough. Roberts' firm - whose entry last year was titled (groan) ``Peas On Earth'' - this year offered a graceful circular design with an interactive element I can't explain.

Suffice to say, it is worth a trip to the mall, as are all the others, including the valiant efforts of the Boone and Evans students who had to work with the motley array of cans donated by their classmates.

You don't want to miss the 13-foot lighthouse; a huge treasure chest with a Pringles top; a breakfast table and chairs, with loaves of bread for cushions; a replica of the Globe Theater in England; and the Van Camp's porker feeding at a trough made of boxes of Stove Top Stuffing.